Managed to get through my weekend chores. The house is tidy, the laundry is done, even scrubbed out the bathroom. And I didn’t just sit on my ass, either. Got to the gym. Steady, though not all-out, exercise.
What I didn’t do is rehearse. That’s slightly bothersome. However, my logical side argued that (1) tonight’s version is a one-off, (2) I might not incorporate any of tonight’s ideas into the actual performance, and (3) until I hear some laughs, I can’t make any decisions on my look or voice or actions. Besides, I know myself. It’ll just pop out of me at the right time.
It always does.
Feel a bit foolish these last few days. I’m watching the news about the hurricane – like there’s something I’ll accomplish just by watching. It also feels ghoulish. I tune in to find out how bad it is. And while part of me (a hard and angry part) feels vindictive joy over stupid Americans getting theirs, another part of me knows how wrong that feeling is. There are good people out there, too. I find it a pity that water doesn’t discriminate. If it took only the bad people, if it ruined only the greedy, I could feel joy without guilt. But it doesn’t.
…Recorded and watched a tv broadcast of Tommy. Hadn’t seen it since I was a child. Wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I remember thinking it was strange, and not really understanding the subtext. I get now why I didn’t really like it – the music sucks. Many songs are nothing more than a 16 bar progressive riff repeated ad infinitum until the music stops. The lyrics are hackneyed and lame. And while the visuals might have been cutting edge at the time, they look amateur and laughable now. Had to search out statements made about the original opera – what the hell was Townsend driving at? Found an article that came out on the heels of the album release. Full of bullshit (in my opinion). After watching and listening with my adult’s eyes and ear, what I saw was Townsend’s great opus to homosexuality. Oh, he couched it in a Jesus metaphor. I’ll give you. But peel that away and this is what I saw: a thinly veiled account (factual? only Townsend can say) of a childhood filled with verbal, mental, and sexual abuse. The child grows ‘deaf, dumb, and blind’ – non-communicative. Why? Perhaps a secret so dark the author was unwilling to own up to it back then? The lyrics in the final piece are questionable, too. ‘Gazing at you, I get the heat’? ‘I get excitement at your feet’? Hm. …Perhaps I’m overstepping, but now that I’ve seen this link it’s all I can see. *sigh* And still, against all popular culture, I’ve got to say I didn’t like it. It bored me.
Seems like the world has gone quiet. Oh, if you want hurricane info it’s there aplenty. But don’t tell me North Korea has gone silent, or things are peaceful in the middle east. Crap is still going on. We’re just not hearing about it. I don’t like that. I understand overriding concerns, etc. etc. – but if humanity is ever to learn bloody anything, we’ve got to realize the story doesn’t stop at the end of the damned article! The news shows us pictures of refugees, or people in natural disasters, and we think ‘oh, how sad, how pitiful’. Some people send money, others prayers. All are thinking ‘what if that was me?’. So I know North Korea is still a problem. I know war is still raging in places I’ve never even heard of. I’m not gonna forget about them just because a big storm moved in to toss Miami’s buildings around like toy blocks. But the media! …If parents are partially to blame for the problems of their children, certainly media is partially to blame for the current short attention span of humanity. We’ve taken it down to tweets and comments. Hot topics only! Don’t give us yesterday’s news; we’re bored by that already! Ho, hum, and yeah, yeah.
I am so glad I never had children! I just don’t see things getting better. …Watched 2012 last night, because after all the hurricane updates I was in the mood for a big disaster film. And you know…humanity has the bad habit of imaging its end as a huge disaster. Big upheavals, trying times (usually with the hero living thru it, along with his future mate). We don’t imagine it as dying with a whimper. Simply dying out. No. The continents shift, biblical floods occur, the tops of mountains blow off, aliens travel thousands of light years to blow up American iconic buildings, but simply die out -? Not in our vocabulary. And that’s a weakness. We fail to see our real pitfalls, and these overblown disaster stories, while entertaining, do nothing but blind us to reality. They ignite our imaginations, yes…but in the wrong direction.
There is a story brewing in my brain. It’s been there for a while; six months, at least. It’s not heroic. And it’s not pretty. It has burning, and gasping for air. It has the basest, the ugliest side of humanity laid spread eagle for all to consume. No matter how many times I put it aside, and think, Not yet! Not yet!, it returns to me. The tale of dying out. Of the problems we caused being too big for us to solve. Of our future generations’ sentence: to pay the price for the industrial revolution, and the associated pollution allowed to spread and infect every particle of the planet that gave us life. It’s not a tale to push an environmental agenda, or a feminist agenda, or a political agenda – despite the obvious set-up. It’s a sad, bleak tale about the end. No fireworks, no opportunity for last minute heroics because there’s nothing anyone can do but die.
…Shit. Now I’ve made myself melancholy. *sigh* Better go turn on cartoons and start playing…